


That Which Blooms On Winter's Night

by Scallion



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Flower Language, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21722683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scallion/pseuds/Scallion
Summary: It’s ironic then, that Tasuku plays the role of Raphael, the angel of healing. Must he get on his knees to pray?Dear Raphael, teach him how to heal this friendship.
Relationships: Takatoo Tasuku/Tsukioka Tsumugi
Comments: 18
Kudos: 118





	That Which Blooms On Winter's Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing Tasuku & Tsumugi so I hope I did okay, but those fellas are in love and you can't convince me otherwise. Also there's not enough fics for them and I'm starving so I guess this is to feed myself.

Autumn gives way to winter, blue skies consumed by grey, leaves falling, exposing spindly bare branches, and brittle bark.

It is when the snow blankets the Earth, and the only thing Tasuku can hear is the roar of his motorcycle, and the delighted laughter of his friend, once lost, now found, that he realizes he is certain that he is hopelessly in love with Tsumugi. 

It makes sense in a way, now that he isn’t blind to his own feelings. 

The jealousy that bubbled to the surface when Tsumugi spoke of past partners. That annoyance when Azuma joked that he would get Tsumugi a job as a professional cuddler, and most of all why it had hurt so much when he had disappeared all those years ago.

Tsumugi is warm against his back, arms wrapped around his waist, steady and comforting.

Tasuku can’t help but think of the dying flowers in winter, beautiful hues shriveling, until they are naught but husks of their former selves.

It worries him, thinking that the man holding on to him isn’t much different.

In a way, the change of a season brought the death of Tsumugi as well. Fair winds of praise and promise, quickly becoming cold and harsh. It had killed him, a swift, but painful death. A confident, emerging talent all at once crushed to a man who ran as fast and as far as he could, and questioned his self-worth at every turn. — and what did Tasuku do? 

He did not tend to the roots that were holding on, calling for help in the harsh winter. He had turned his back and left Tsumugi out to die on his own. 

Only Tsumugi had held on, far more withdrawn then he once was, and quieter too, but it was stil him, still  _ his Tsumu _ . Their dream of being on stage together comes finally,  _ Sympathy for an Angel  _ and Tsumugi’s performance feels akin to the archangel Micheal riding into battle. Tasuku thinks he might need some sympathy for himself. What else was he to do but be mesmerized? It’s ironic then, that Tasuku plays the role of Raphael, the angel of healing. Must he get on his knees to pray? Dear Raphael, teach him how to heal this friendship, teach him how to heal Tsumugi’s gentle heart before he loses him again.

— but Tasuku has never truly believed in prayers,nor easy answers, and perhaps, he muses, they don’t very much believe in him either because everything is always complicated in his walk of life.

Tsumugi’s laughter quiets, and it reminds Tasuku of how ephemeral and fleeting happiness could be. All at once he cannot help but to be filled with the urge to see him. Pulling over on a highway, the only answer he gives to Tsumugi’s questioning noise is removing both their helmets.

Tsumugi’s cheeks are flushed a delightful red, snow beginning to dust upon on his dark hair and eyelashes. “Tasuku?” he asks, head tilting to one side, “Why did we stop?” 

“I wanted to see,” Tasuku hesitates,  _ I wanted to see you _ .

His words go unsaid as lights dance in his friend’s eyes. 

They brighten, marveling over the lights of the city below, caught between humanity’s attempts to light the night with imitations of stars, and cluster of fireflies, nature’s fleeting and temporary gift. The moon shines overhead, and Tasuku for once, thinks that perhaps Homare isn’t insane, because if he could, maybe he would wax poetic about this moment as well. 

“Oh, Taa-chan” Tsumugi’s voice trails off, “It’s really beautiful.”

If he waits longer, Tasuku thinks, would he end up like Raphael? Would he be destined to watch the person he loves fall in love with everything but him?

Inaction had led him down an awful path before,so he moves, cupping Tsumugi’s surprised face in his hands and kisses him.

There is no fanfare, no fight, only the cold winter and Tsumugi’s voice cutting sharper than the winter winds, devoid of any emotions, “Take me home.”

Tasuku nods wordlessly.

The ride home is too long, and Tsumugi’s arms around him feel like tightening shackles.

Tsumugi makes a mad dash for the back door.

_ Don’t let him run away again _ , Tasuku thinks,  _ I need to talk to him _ .

“Wait. I’m sorry,” he calls out. If Tsumugi never wants to talk about this again, he’s okay with that, but he doesn’t want it to end like this again. A bitter last moment, with so many unanswered questions. He can’t live with the same mistake twice. They’ve come too far in mending what was broken. At this point Tasuku is ready for Tsumugi to say anything. Maybe Tsumugi will ask for this night to never be remembered, or maybe he’ll ask for a new roommate and never speak to him again, or maybe, Tasuku will even say goodbye to the Mankai Company tomorrow to make sure Tsumugi is somewhere where he feels safe and happy.

“Don’t—” and he looks so sad, Tasuku doesn’t even know what to do with himself, “If you do that I’ll fall in love with you again.”

Tasuku was not ready for Tsumugi to say that.

His head snaps to attention, “Would that be so bad?”

“Yes,” he pauses, pressing the back of his hands to his eyes. He’s too old for this, or maybe he’s too young, but he doesn’t let any tears fall. “I can’t, I’m not —”  _ good enough or worth it.  _

“I ruin things Tasuku, and I’m not brave, what if I run away again?”

Tasuku frowns,  _ you won’t, not anymore at least,  _ but he says with all the conviction in his heart, “Then I’ll chase you until I find you again.”

“ _ Taa-chan _ ,” and he sounds weak, shoulders slumping. 

“ _ Tsumu _ .”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do,” he lets out a shaky exhale, “You always say what you mean.”

It’s comforting to know that at the very least his friend still knows him. 

He steps closer.

Tsumugi extends his hand, uncertainty on his face, but fondness as well.

Perhaps they were never meant to only endure the winter. Maybe they were like snowdrops, or winter jasmine, maybe even violas in a sea of snow covered fields — maybe their time to bloom was always after the storm.

Winter gives way to Spring, colors returning with each new blossom. Tasuku walks to the Mankai gardens where Tsumugi plants new seeds. 

The two of them do not fade, nor wilt, they remain — everlasting.

**Author's Note:**

> snowdrops : comfort & hope  
> winter jasmine : love & beauty  
> viola : innocence, everlasting love
> 
> These flowers all grow & thrive in the winter.


End file.
